Carnal Thirst

Chapter Eight

Danior studied Maggie as she slept the deep, dreamless sleep of the truly sated. His lips curled faintly on that thought in self-deprecating amusement, but she'd left him in no doubt that he had thoroughly pleased her. He was weary himself after making love to her most of the day, but too tense and anxious to sleep.

She still didn't fully grasp that her own life was in as much danger as his, but then she didn't realize that the council was ruthless, and merciless. As beautiful as she was, they would not hesitate to destroy her.

Their rules would be maintained. There were no exceptions.

He'd known that even when he agreed to take her. He'd known, sooner or later, they would learn of it and Maggie's life would be forfeit as well as his own for protecting her.

She would have to accept it. For whatever reason he'd felt compelled to protect her, to begin with—for amusement, or merely a whim—there was no doubt in his mind why that had changed from mild interest to a desperate obsession.

He couldn't go on without her and he had no intention of doing so even if he had to take her by force.

There was no place inside the US safe for them now. The council might have no control outside of New Orleans, but they need only contact the council where ever he might think to go to, and he and Maggie would be forced to flee again.

They must leave for Europe. He could make arrangements for a night flight to New York, but they would have to travel by ship from there since there were no flights that could take them to Europe overnight.

It didn't matter. Once they were outside the US, they would be beyond the control and jurisdiction of the council.

He decided to allow her to rest while he made the arrangements. He had fake passports made, using a scanned copy of her driver's license for hers. He emailed the information to X with instructions to meet him at the airport. He'd used this man, X, in the past, and he was trustworthy enough only in that he could be bought into silence for a price.

They were trusting their lives to him, to make sure that X wouldn't betray them, perhaps for more money, or the threat at losing his life.

There was no way around it, unfortunately. This late in the game, he couldn't afford to shop around for someone else.

Danior called and ordered their tickets to New York and booked passage on the first available ship to Europe. At this time of year, their options were limited to the Mediterranean. He had connections there, however, and would be able to find refuge until he found them a place to make their new home.

Satisfied he'd done all he could at the moment, he crawled back into bed with Maggie, nestling her against his side as he stared up at the ceiling, going over his plans. He wished he could have taken a ship directly from the port here, but it was too risky taking a smaller vessel, and there was nothing else available except a few cargo ships, which wouldn't take passengers regardless. No, there was no choice but to fly to New York. Airport security after the attack there would force him to go completely weaponless, but it also meant their chances of being attacked there were slim. He had only to get there before running into trouble to get her aboard safely.

He prayed that his luck had not run out.

"Maggie."

Something tickled her nose. “Unnh,” she complained, rolling over. Sore muscles winced at the movement, and she groaned. “Oh. I think I've been injured,” she mumbled, curling into a ball.

"As much as I would love to kiss those aches away, we have no time now. You've slept the day away.

Dusk approaches."

Maggie bolted upright, stifling a groan as she put her weight on her bottom. “Why'd you let me sleep so late?"

He smiled, looking incredibly sexy despite the danger looming. She almost suspected he was putting on a faÇade to keep her from panicking. “I couldn't bear to wake you."

Maggie rolled her eyes, smiling as she got out of bed and hurriedly woke herself up. Her thighs were sticky from their lovemaking, and she bathed herself off with a rag, washed her face, and brushed her teeth with the spare toothbrush he'd bought for her.

She changed from her nightshirt into the leather clothing and boots. After she finished, she came out of the bathroom and found him gone.

A brief moment of panic assailed her, but she quashed it, hurrying out and down the stairs. She released a pent-up breath to find him downstairs waiting for her.

"It's safe to go out now. Hurry,” he said, taking her hand as he led her out the back. When they reached the door, he stopped, seeming to listen for some sound she couldn't hear. Apparently, he heard nothing to alarm him, and he opened the door, guiding her to the draped car.

He pulled the tarp off, revealing a silver Dodge Viper. Clicking off the alarm, he opened to door for her and shut it once she was inside.

The interior was roomier than she'd thought it would be, and she knew he had to have had it custom built for his height to accommodate his legs.

Getting in, he started the car and revved the engine, flashing her a quick grin as he put it in gear and drove away from the dark mansion.

The drive passed in taut silence. He maneuvered the streets easily, reaching the airport with almost anticlimactic ease. She couldn't believe it had been so easy to get away.

"We're not free yet,” he said, as if reading her thoughts, which she realized he could if he wanted to.

As they passed through the electronic doors, and man pushed off from a column and strode purposefully toward them. Maggie tensed, her breathing quickening. This was it. They'd been found.

Danior draped his arm over her shoulder, giving it a squeeze as the man stopped in front of them.

He had bad ass written all over him. From his shaved head and sunglasses, through the black tribal tattoos that covered his body and the black, silver studded leather he wore.

"X,” Danior said, nodding a greeting.

"Danior,” X said back, giving Maggie a once over before returning his attention to Danior. He fished two passports out of the inside of his jacket. “Do you have my money?"

Danior took the passports and examined them. “As good as always, X.” He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number from memory banks. They waited while he transferred the money to X's account and X confirmed it.

Danior and X nodded at one another again, both in that mode of conversation that could only be comprehended by other men, and without another word, they moved away and checked in for their flight.

Maggie couldn't believe how easy it had been to get away. Once they were on the plane and it had taken off, she finally managed to relax. She wasn't aware before then of just how tight her nerves had been. She had a tension headache coming on, and the cramped space and recycled air wasn't helping it any.

"Where are we going?” she finally asked Danior, who sat by the window with his eyes closed.

He didn't look at her. “New York and from there we take a ship to the Mediterranean."

"Nice. I didn't think I'd ever get another vacation in my lifetime."

He looked at her then, his eyes smoky and passionate. “I hope to do so much more for you for many years to come,” he said, his husky voice vibrating pleasurably along her nerves. “I'm surprised you didn't fight me more on this."

He traced a hand up and down her thigh. Even through the leather, he left his impression on her.

"I didn't see much sense in it. It's for the best, and ... I trust you."

His eyes gleamed. He leaned close, nuzzling her neck. “You don't know how much it pleases me to hear you say that,” he murmured, running his hand up her inner thigh, up her covered cleft.

Maggie jerked in her seat, clamping her hands down tightly on the arms of her chair. “What are you doing?"

"Mmm. What do you think?"

His fingers moved up, tugging at her zipper.

"No, Danior. I'll never get that zipper back up,” she whispered frantically, looking around worriedly.

They were in first class and it was empty except for a solitary man several rows above them, and he was snoring.

"They've made the rounds. No one will come, and I would not let them see,” he murmured hotly against her neck before sucking her lobe between his teeth.

Ignoring her silent protests, he pulled the zipper down, baring her panties, which were no barrier at all for him. He slipped beneath the waistband, fluttering his fingers over her mound.

Maggie bit her lip, squirming in her seat as he curled his fingers into the top of her cleft.

"Mmmm. You're wet. I knew you wanted this,” he growled softly, thrusting his tongue into her ear as he stroked her clit.

She arched in her seat, thrusting her mound against his cupped hand, fighting to contain the moan that wanted to tear from her throat. She kept her eyes open, looking around for anyone to catch them, afraid and excited at the possibility that they'd be caught.

He dug down, slipping in her slit until he edged her vagina and probed the tight hole, rimming it with a finger before thrusting inside. Maggie took a sharp breath, her knuckles going white to control herself.

"I want so badly to pump my cock inside you, amour,” he whispered, laying open mouthed kisses on her neck as he drove two fingers into her tightness.

Her pussy sizzled, ecstasy imminent, rolling toward her as his palm ground against her clit and she rode his hand.

She was breathing erratically, hard through her nostrils, her heart beating a staccato as he drove her to orgasm. It exploded inside her, vibrating through every nerve ending with shattering precision. Her pussy clenched on his fingers as he continued to thrust into her, mimicking the drive of his cock.

Maggie whimpered, burying her face against his shoulder, biting him to keep from crying out.

Slowly, as her climax faded away, he withdrew his hand and zipped her pants up.

He brought his hand to his face, tasting one finger. The movement of his lips and tongue on that one digit had her cleft clenching with want again.

"I love the scent and taste of you, chere. When we are aboard the ship, I plan to taste every inch of your body."

Maggie shivered pleasurably and snuggled close, enjoying the feel of his arm wrapped around her shoulder. The tension she'd had was gone for now though her thoughts still lay in torment.

They had to make it. She didn't think she could bear losing him now. For once, it seemed like she truly had something to live for.

Without any need for a watch, or any sign in the sky above them, Maggie knew as they got of the plane at last in New York, that it was nearing dawn. She wasn't certain if it was her vampire senses kicking in, or the urgency she sensed in Danior, but she knew they had little time to get from the airport to the docks.

Danior had arranged for a rental car and directed her toward the door that led out to the parking lot in swift strides. They carried nothing. Except for the clothing Danior had bought for her, Maggie had nothing in any case, but Danior had checked the luggage they did have when they went into the airport. He'd told her arrangements had been made to transfer it to the ship once they reached New York, but he seemed singularly uninterested in whether or not their luggage actually made the trip with them.

Unspoken was the far more urgent need to be free of any sort of encumbrance if they should meet up with the hunters.

Pushing the door open, Danior held it, catching her when she would have gone through and lifting his head to listen, almost seeming to sniff the air. After a moment, his grip relaxed fractionally. “Hurry,” he said in an under voice, placing his hand on her back, along her waist. “Slot 652."

Nodding, Maggie proceeded him, scanning the numbers on the pavement nearest her and trying to determine what direction to take. Danior strode past her, grasping her hand and leading the way once more.

Unnerved by the tension she sensed in him, Maggie focused on searching for the car.

Suddenly, Danior stopped, going stiff. His tense wariness caught her attention, and she looked up, shocked to see a woman standing not twenty feet away from them. Petite and blonde, she was everything that Maggie was not.

"Danior,” she said, and in her beautiful voice was a threat. Death emanated from her lips.

"What are you doing here, Tatiana?” Danior demanded, clenching his hands into fists.

"I had to see if it was true.” She laughed coldly. “How far the mighty fall."

Danior's lips curled in a chilling smile. “You were ever one for theatrics, Tatiana, but I'm afraid we'll have to miss the rest of the play. We've an urgent need to breathe more healthful air."

She chuckled. “I know, but I'm afraid that won't be possible."

To her left and right, two men cloaked in black stepped out, almost indistinguishable from the dark save for their pale, skin and glowing eyes.

"You led them to me."

Maggie glanced at him sharply at the tone of his voice, or rather the lack of any tone at all, as if he were being excruciatingly careful of his words. She could read nothing in his expression, but she knew, quite suddenly, that this woman had once been Danior's woman. She turned to look at the woman again, fighting the sickness that welled inside her, the jealousy.

She smiled at the look on Maggie's face. “They needed someone who had a blood bond with you. How could I refuse?"

A sense of unreality washed over her. Time seemed to slow, the moments stretching into minutes. She blinked, turning her head to look at Danior once more and seeing nothing but a blur of motion as he launched himself at the nearest man. They collided mid-air, struggling, slashing at each other with their teeth. Cold washed over Maggie as she watched helplessly, trying to fight the shock off, trying to think if there was anything she could do to help. Should she try to help? Or would she only be in the way?

Would her efforts only distract Danior and hamper him instead of helping?

Cringing away from the fight, she moved her head to see where the others were.

The second man stood where he had been, awaiting a chance to strike. The blond woman, Tatiana was watching the two men who struggled with a smile on her face.

Rage filled Maggie. This woman had meant something to Danior. She knew just from the way he'd behaved that he had been stunned that Tatiana had betrayed him. What had that cost him? Had it divided his heart and mind? Distracted him from the strength and purpose he needed to defeat the hunters who'd come to kill him?

She couldn't seem to will herself to move, however. It was like a nightmare. Every smallest movement required the utmost concentration.

It was almost as if she'd been enthralled.

She knew with sudden enlightenment that she had been. One of the vampires had her. Which one, she wasn't certain. Danior, in an effort to protect her? Or one of the others?

She didn't know, but as she watched Danior slay the man he'd been fighting and struggle to his feet to face his other foe, she began trying to break free of the mind control that held her rooted to the spot, helpless, unable to help Danior.

He was weakened from his battle with the first vampire, bleeding from wounds on his face and neck and hands, bleeding, she saw to her horror, even from slashes that had cut through his leather clothing and into his chest, his shoulder.

She dragged her gaze back to the vampiress, realizing abruptly that it was Tatiana that held her. She allowed her hate to swell inside of her, allowed it to consume her mind. Little by little she felt the control over her slip, like the faint loosening of a binding rope.

Grinding her teeth now with the effort, she focused on the pain this woman's betrayal had caused Danior.

She focused on the fact that the woman was the epitome of those women who'd tormented her her entire life.

With an effort that made her break a sweat, she took a step forward, and then another.

Tatiana's attention shifted and Maggie's followed, almost as if she were a puppet.

Relief filled her when she saw that Danior had slain the second man ... until she saw that he was too weak from the battle to rise. Even as she stared at him, struggling to break the mind hold so that she could run to him, Tatiana fell upon him, tearing a gash alone his shoulder and neck with her teeth.

She meant to kill him, to finish him off now that he was too weak to fight her.

Without any conscious effort whatsoever, Maggie broke the hold on her and surged forward. Mindless, beast-like, she fell upon her prey. Grasping her by her hair, she tore Tatiana from Danior and slung her away with a strength she'd never known she possessed.

Tatiana struck one of the concrete supports of the garage, wrapping halfway around it. It would have snapped the back of a human. The vampiress landed in a crouch and launched herself at Maggie, her teeth bared in a snarl. Maggie's heart seemed to leap into her throat as she watched the woman flying at her. Ignoring it, she waited until the woman was almost upon her and slung her fist directly toward the oncoming teeth. Pain slid up her fist, her arm, and into her shoulder. It shook her terror from her, however, and, before the woman could recover and scramble to her feet, Maggie fell upon her, pummeling her and tearing at the vampiress with her own teeth until she realized the woman wasn't moving any more.

Gasping for breath, she sat back on her heels, staring in horror at the bloody corpse that she'd made. As abruptly as the animalistic madness had descended upon her, it vanished. She scurried away from the woman's body, crab like, unable to tear her gaze away.

Her stomach heaved bile into her throat and she braced her palms on the pavement, retching until she could do nothing more than gag. After what seemed an eternity the heaving ceased. Wiping her mouth on her sleeve, she spat the vile taste from her mouth and looked around.

Danior lay motionless.

On the instant, everything else vanished from her mind and Maggie scrambled toward him. She didn't even realize that she was sobbing hysterically until she saw the tears dripping onto Danior's face.

Scooping his head against her chest, she rocked him, stroking his hair. “Don't die, Danior. Please! Don't leave me!” she sobbed, knowing it was already too late.

But he was warm still, she thought angrily. He couldn't be dead.

When he touched her face, she jerked all over.

Leaning back, she blinked the tears from her eyes and looked down at him. “Danior?"

"It's ... nearing dawn. Go. Save yours..."

"Not without you,” Maggie ground out. Shifting, she caught him beneath both arms and thrust upward with all her strength. Her back burned. Her arms burned with the strain, but she staggered back, dragging him with her. It would be easier, she knew to run to get the car, but she couldn't leave him with the others. Someone might happen upon them before she could get back.

When she'd finally managed to drag him into a darkened corner, she leaned down and kissed him, briefly, on the lips. “I'll be back in a minute,” she said, fishing the car keys from his pocket and turning to look at the numbers on the parking slots nearest them.

When she returned, he lay much as she'd left him. It took sheer determination, but she finally managed to get him in the car. Once she'd done so, however, she wasn't certain what to do next.

They were supposed to take a ship, but which dock? How to get to the dock? How was she going to get him onboard, in this condition?

Shaking off her doubts, she fished around in the glove box and unearthed a map. He would heal, she told herself. By the time they'd reached the docks, he'd be OK and they could board and everything was going to be alright.